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. atrtottc 
American 

Songs 




Icannot^n^y-oMe£n0, 
Ido not know y-wordes* 



*'I cannot stng the old songs, 
I do not know the words.'* 

SONGS WITHOUT WORDS 

The following verses by the noted humorist, 
Robert J. Burdette, very well express the situation 
of most of us. We do not "know the words" of 
the old songs. Americans who travel abroad are 
often chagrined because they cannot sing Ameri- 
can songs owing to imperfect recollection of the 
texts. Let us teach the children the old songs, 
and see that they know words as well as tune. 

. I cannot sing the old songs. 
Though well I know the tune, 
Familiar as a cradle-song 
With sleep-compelling croon; 
Yet though I'm filled with music. 
As choirs of summer birds, 
"I cannot sing the old songs"— 
I do not know the words. 

I start on "Hail Columbia," 
And get to "heav'n-bom band," 
And there I strike an upward grade. 
With neither steam nor sand; 
"Star-spangled Banner" downs me 
Right in my wildest screaming; 
I start all right, but dumbly come 
To voiceless wreck at "streaming." 

So, when I sing the old songs. 
Don't murmur or complain 
If "Li, diddy ah da, turn dum" 
Should fill the sweetest strain. 
I love "Tolly um dum di do," 
And the "trilla-la yeep da" of birds. 
But "I cannot sing the old songs"— 
I do not know the words- 

Bv permission of The Bobbs-Merrill Co. 

Owners of the Copyright. 



Patriotic and 
American 

SONGS 




SECOND EDITION 



PUBLISHED BY 

H. R. KINGSLEY 

NEWARK, N. J. 



l^Vi1V3!Miv. 



Ty/o Or Dies Received 

ivlAh 23. ie09 

.cuss C^ XXg No. 
INTRODUCTORY 






.>^^-^ 



This compilation has been made after much 
research, resulting in the bringing together for 
the first time in a compact and convenient form so 
far as is knovm, the words of the more popular 
National Songs of our Country. In spite of 
much criticism of the literary merit of some of 
these songs, as well as of the quality of music to 
which they are sung, still the fact remains that 
they are too deeply rooted in the affections of the 
people to die. It is regretted that lack of space 
prevents detailing much interesting information 
gleaned concerning the origin and history of each 
song; but it is hoped that this modest little book 
may prove to be the means of preserving intact, 
and providing ourselves and our children with a 
knowledge of and a desire to memorize, the 
authentic words of at least a few of these inspir- 
ing expressions of patrotism. 

The compiler acknowledges the courtesy of 
Messrs. Houghton Mifflin Co., John J. Hood, 
Bobbs-Merrill Company, Oliver Ditson & Co. and 
G. P. Putnam's Sons, in permitting the use of 
poems published by them or on which they hold 
the copyright. Several adopted songs have also 
been inserted. 



Copyright 1908 
By H. R. KINGSLEY 



Copyright 1909 
By H. R. KINGSLEY 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



THE STAR SPANGLED BANNER 

Oh ! say can you see, by the dawn's early light. 
What so proudly we hail'd by the twilight's last 
gleaming. 
Whose bright stars and broad stripes, thro' the 
clouds of the fight. 
O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallant- 
ly streaming; 
And the rocket's red glare, the bombs bursting in 
air. 
Gave proof through the night that our flag was 
still there 

Chorus. 
Oh ! say does that star spangled banner yet wave. 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the 
brave. 

On the shore dimly seen thro' the mists of the deep. 
Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence 
reposes 
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering 
steep. 
As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses? 
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first 
beam. 
In full glory reflected, now shines on the stream. 
Cho.— 'Tis the star spangled banner, O long may 
it wave. 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the 
brave. 

And where is that band, who so vauntingly swore, 
"That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion, 
A home and a country should leave us no more? 
Their blood has wash'd out their foul footstep's 
pollution; 
No refuge could save the hireling and slave 
From the terror of flight or the gloom of the 
grave. 
Cho. — And the star spangled banner in triumph 
doth wave. 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the 
brave. 

Oh! thus be it ever when free-men shall stand. 
Between their loved homes and the war's deso- 
lation. 
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the heav'n 
rescued land. 
Praise the Power that hath made and preserved 
us a nation. 
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is justi 
And this be our motto, "In God is our trust," 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



Cho.— And the star spangled banner in triumph 
shall wave. 
O'er the land of the free and the home of the 
brave. 

Francis Scott Key. 

When our land is illum'd with liberty's smile, 

If a foe from within strike a blow at her glory, 
Down, down with the traitor, who dares to defile 
The flag of her stars and the page of her story! 
By the millions unchained who their birth-right 
have gained. 
We will keep her bright blazon forever unstain- 
ed. 
Cho.— And the star spangled banner in triumph 
shall wave. 
While the land of the free is the home of the 
brave. 

Dr. Oliver Wendell, Holmes. 

AMERICA 

My country, 'tis of thee. 

Sweet land of Liberty, 

Of thee I sing; 

Land where my fathers died; 

Land of the pilgrims' pride; 

From every mountain side 

Let freedom ring. 

My native country, thee. 
Land of the noble free. 
Thy name I love; 
I love thy rocks and rills, ^ 
Thy woods and templed hills; 
My heart with rapture thrills. 
Like that above. 

Let music swell the breeze. 
And ring from all the trees 
Sweet freedom's song; 
Let mortal tongues awake, 
Let all that breathe partake; 
- Let rocks their silence break. 
The sound prolong. 

Our fathers' God, to thee. 

Author of liberty, 

To thee we sing; 

Long may our land be bright 

With freedom's holy light; 

Protect us by Thy might. 

Great God, our King. 

Rev. Samuel Francis Smith. 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



The following two verses have been suggested 
by Db. Henry Van Dyke. 

"I love thine inland seas, 

Thy groves and giant trees. 

Thy rolling plains ; 

Thy rivers' mighty sweep. 

Thy misty canyons deep, 

Thy mountains wild and steep. 

All thy domains: 

Thy silver Eastern strands. 
Thy Golden Gate that stands 
Fronting the West ; 
Thy flowery Southland fair. 
Thy sweet and crystal air,— 
O land beyond compare. 
Thee I love best !" 



HAIL, COLUMBIA 

Hail, Columbia, happy land ! 

Hail, ye heroes heaven born band! 
Who fought and bled in Freedom's cause. 

Who fouRht and bled in Freedom's cause. 
And when the storm of war was done. 

Enjoyed the peace your valor won. 
Let independence be our boast. 

Ever mindful what it cost; 
Ever grateful for the prize. 

Let its altars reach the skies. 

Chorus. 

Firm, United, let us be. 
Rallying round our liberty; 

As a band of brothers joined. 
Peace and safety we shall find. 

Immortal patriots! rise once more! 

Defend your rights; defend your shore: 
Let no rude foe, with impious hand. 

Let no rude foe, with impious hand. 
Invade the shrine where sacred lies. 

Of toil and blood the well-earned prize. 
While offering peace, sincere and just. 

In heav'n we place a manly trust. 
That truth and justice will prevail. 

And ev'ry scheme of bondage fail. 

Sound, sound the trump of fame! 

Let Washington's great name 
Ring thro' the world with loud applause. 

Ring thro' the world with loud applause. 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



Let ev'ry clime to freedom dear, 

Listen with a joyful ear. 
With equal skill, with god-like power. 

He governs in the fearful hour 
Of horrid war; or guides with ease 

The happier times of honest peace. 

Behold the Chief who now commands. 

Once more to serve his country stands. 
The rock on which the storm will beat; 

The rock on which the storm will beat; 
But armed in virtue, firm and true. 

His hopes are fixed on heav'n and you. 
When hope was sinking in dismay. 

And clouds obscured Columbia's day. 
His steady mind from changes free. 

Resolved on death or liberty. 

Joseph Hopkinson. 

COLUMBIA, THE GEM OF THE OCEAN 

O Columbia! the gem of the ocean. 

The home of the brave and the free, 
The shrine of each patriot's devotion, 

A world offers homage to thee. 
Thy mandates make heroes assemble, 

When Liberty's form stands in view. 
Thy banners make tyranny tremble. 

When borne by the red, white and blue. 

Chorus. 
When borne by the red, white and blue. 

When borne by the red, white and blue. 
Thy banners make tyranny tremble. 

When borne by the red, white and blue. 

When war winged its wide desolation. 

And threatened the land to deform. 
The ark then of freedom's foundation, 

Columbia rode safe through the storm; 
With her garlands of vict'ry around her. 

When so proudly she bore her brave crew. 
With her flag proudly floating before her. 

The boast of the red, white and blue.— Cho. 

The wine-cup, the wine-cup bring hither. 

And fill you it true to the brim. 
May the wreaths they have won never wither. 

Nor the star of their glory grow dim ! 
May the service united ne'er sever. 

But they to their colors prove true! 
The Army and Navy forever. 

Three cheers for the red, white and blue.— Cho. 
Thomas ^ Becket. 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



THE NEW "HAIL COLUMBIA" 

Look our ransomed shores around 

Peace and safety we have found I 

Welcome, friends who once were foes! 

Welcome, friends who once were foes. 

To all the Conquering Years have gained,— 

A Nation's rights, A race unchained! 

Children of the day new-born. 

Mindful of its glorious morn. 

Let the pledge our fathers signed. 

Heart to heart for ever biad! 

Chorus. 
While the stars in Heaven shall burn, 
While the Ocean tides return. 
Ever may the circling sun 
Find the many still are One. 

Graven deep with edge of Steel, 
Crowned with Victory's crimson seal. 
All the world their names shall read! 
All the world their names shall read. 
Enrolled with his, the Chief that led 
The hosts, whose blood for us was shed. 
Pay our sires their children's debt. 
Love and honor, — nor forget. 
Only Union's golden key 
Guards the Ark of Liberty!— Cho. 

Hail Columbia! strong and free. 
Throned in hearts from sea to sea! 
Thy march triumphant still pursue! 
Thy march triumphant still pursue! 
With peaceful stride from zone to zone. 
Till Freedom finds the world her own! 
Blest in Union's holy ties. 
Let our grateful song arise,— 
Every voice its tribute lend,— 
All in loving chorus blend!— Cho. 

Oliver Wendell Holmes. 
Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. 

YANKEE DOODLE 

Father and I went down to camp. 

Along with Captain Goodwin, 
And there we saw the men and boys. 

As thick as hasty pudding. 
Chorus. 
Yankee Doodle keep it up, 

Yankee Doodle dandy. 
Mind the Music and the step. 

And with the girls be handy. 



And there was Captain Washington 

Upon a slapping stallion. 
And giving orders to his men, 

I guess there was a million. 

And then the feathers on his hat, 

They looked so tarnal finey, 
I wanted peskily to get. 

To give to my Jemima. 

And there they had a swamping gun. 

As big as a log of maple, 
On a deuced little cart, 

A load for father's cattle. 

And every time they fired it off 

It took a horn of powder; 
It made a noise like father's gun. 

Only a nation louder. 

I went as near to it myself 

As Jacob's underpinnin'. 
And father went as near again— 

I thought the deuce was in him. 

(It scared me so I ran the streets, 

Nor stopped as I remember, 
Till I got home, and safely locked 

In granny's little chamber.) 

And there I see a little keg. 

Its heads were made of leather. 
They knocked upon't with little sticks. 

To call the folks together. 

And there they'd fife away like fun. 

And play on corn stalk fiddles. 
And some had ribbons red as blood. 

All bound around their middles. 

The troopers too, would gallop up. 

And fire right in our faces; 
It scared me almost half to death 

To see them run such i-aces. 

Uncle Sam came there to change 
Some pancakes and some onions. 

For 'lasses cakes to carry home 
To give his wife and young ones. 

But I can't tell you half I see. 

They kept up such a smother; 
So I took my hat off, made a bow 

And scampered home to mother. 
Attributed to Dr. Richard Shuckburgb 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



WHEN JOHNNY COMES MARCHING HOME 

When Johnny comes marching home again. 

Hurrah, hurrah! 
We'll give him a hearty welcome then. 

Hurrah, hurrah! 
The men will cheer, the boys will shout, the ladies 
they will all turn out, 
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes 
marching home. 

The old church bell will peal with joy. 

Hurrah, hurrah! 
To welcome home our darling boy. 

Hurrah, hurrah! 
The village lads and lassies say. With rosea they 
will strew the way. 
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes 
marching home. 

Get ready for the .jubilee, 

Hurrah, hurrah! 
We'll give the hero three times three. 

Hurrah, hurrah! 
The laurel wreath is ready now to place upon his 
loyal brow. 
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes 
marching home. 

Let love and friendship on that day. 

Hurrah, hurrah! 
Their choicest treasures then display. 

Hurrah, hurrah! 
And let each one perform some part, To fill with 
joy the warrior's heart. 
And we'll all feel gay when Johnny comes 
marching home. 

Louis Lambert. 



BATTLE-CRY OF FREEDOM 

Yes, we'll rally round the flag, boys, we'll rally 
once again. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom, 
We will rally from the hill-side, we'll gather from 
the plain. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

Chorus. 
The Union forever, hurrah boys, hurrah! 

Down with the traitor, up with the star. 
While we rally round the flag, boys, rally once 
again. 
Shouting the battle cry of Freedom. 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



We are springing to the call of our Brothers gone 
before. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom, 
And we'll fill the vacant ranks with a million free- 
men more, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 



We will welcome to our numbers the loyal, true 
and brave, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom, 
And altho' they may be poor, not a man shall be a 
slave, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 



So we're springing to the call from the East and 
from the West, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom, 
And we'll hurl the rebel crew from the land we 
love the best. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 



We are marching to the field, boys, we're going to 
the fight. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom, 
And we bear the glorious stars for the Union and 
the right. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

We will meet the rebel host, boys, with fearless 

heart and true, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom, 
And we'll show what Uncle Sam has for loyal 

men to do. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

If we fall amid the fray, boys, we'll face them to 
the last, 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom, 
And our comrades brave shall hear us, as they go 
rushing past. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

Yes, for Liberty and Union we're springring to the 
fight. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom, 
And the vict'ry shall be ours, for we're rising in 
our might. 
Shouting the battle-cry of Freedom. 

Geo. F. Root. 



10 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



MARCHING THROUGH GEORGIA 

Bring the good old bugle boys! we'll sing another 
song- 
Sing it with a spirit that will start the world 
along— 
Sing it as we used to sing it, fifty thousand strong. 
While we were marching through Georgia. 

Chorus. 
Hurrah! hurrah! We bring the jubilee! 

Hurrah! hurrah! the flag that makes you free! 
So we sang the chorus from Atlanta to the sea. 

While we were marching thro' Greorgia. 

How the darkies shouted when they heard the 
joyful sound ! 
How the turkeys gobbled which our commissary 
found ! 
How the sweet potatoes even started from the 
ground, 
While we were marching through Georgia. 

Yes, and there were Union men who wept with 
joyful tears. 
When they saw the honor'd flag they had not 
seen for years; 
Hardly could they be restrained from breaking: 
forth in cheers. 
While we were marching through Georgia. 

"Sherman's dashing Yankee boys will never reach 
the coast!" 
So the saucy rebels said, and 'twas a handsome 
boast, 
Had they not forgot, alas! to reckon with the host, 
While we were marching through Georgia. 

So we made a thoroughfare for Freedom and her 
train. 
Sixty miles in latitude— three hundred to the 
main; 
Treason fled before us, for resistance was in vain. 
While we were marching through Georgia. 

Henry Clay Wobk. 



TRAMP! TRAMP t TRAMP! 

In the prison cell I sit, thinking mother, dear, of 
you, 
And our bright and happy home so far away. 
And the tears they fill my eyes spite of all that I 
can do, 
Tho' I try to cheer my comrades and be gay. 



11 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



Chorus. 
Tramp, tramp, tramp, the boys are marching. 

Cheer up, comrades, they will come, 
And beneath the starry flag we will breathe the 
air again 
Of the f reeland in our own beloved home. 

In the battle front we stood when their fiercest 

charge they made, 

And they swept us off a hundred men or more. 

But before we reach'd their lines, they were beaten 

back dismay'd. 

And we heard the cry of vict'ry o'er and o'er. 

So within the prison cell, we are waiting for the 
day 
That shall come to open wide the iron door. 
And the hollow eye grows bright, and the poor 
heart almost gay. 
As we think of seeing home and friends once 
more. 

Geo. F. Root. 



TENTING ON THE OLD CAMP GROUND 

We're tenting to-night on the old camp ground. 

Give us a song to cheer 
Our weary hearts, a song of home. 

And friends we love so dear. 

Chorus. 
Many are the hearts that are weary to-night, 

Wishing for the war to cease. 
Many are the hearts, looking for the right. 

To see the dawn of peace. 
Tenting to-night, tenting to-night. 

Tenting on the old camp ground. 
Dying on the old camp ground. 

We've been tenting to-night on the Camp ground. 

Thinking of days gone by. 
Of the loved ones at home that gave us the hand. 

And the tear that said "good-bye!" — Cho. 

We are tired of war on the old Camp ground. 

Many are dead and gone. 
Of the brave and true who've left their homes. 

Others been wounded long. — Cho. 

We've been fighting to-day on the old Camp ground 

Many are lying near; 
Some are dead, and some are dying. 

Many are in tears. — Cho. 

Walter Kittredge. 



12 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



MARYLAND 

Hark to thy wandering son's appeal. 

Maryland ! 
My mother State! To thee I kneel, 

Maryland ! 
For life and death, for woe and weal. 
Thy peerless chivalry reveal. 
And gird thy beauteous limbs with steel, 

Maryland, my Maryland! 

Thou wilt not cower in the dust, 

Maryland ! 
Thy beaming sword shall never rust, 

Maryland ! 
Remember Carroll's Sacred trust. 
Remember Howard's warlike thrust. 
And all thy slumberers with the just, 

Maryland, my Maryland ! 

Thou wilt not yield the Vandal toll, 

Maryland ! 
Thou wilt not crook to his control, 

Maryland! 
Better the fire upon thee roll. 
Better the blade, the shot, the bowl. 
Than crucifixion of the soul, 

Maryland, my Maryland ! 

James Ryder Randall 

DIXIE 

I wish I was in de land ob cotton. 
Old times dar am not forgotten; 
Look away! look away 1 look away ! 
Dixie Land ! 
In Dixie land where I was bom in. 
Early on one frosty momin'. 
Look away ! look away ! look away ! 
Dixie Land ! 
OR 
Away down South in de fields of cotton. 
Cinnamon seed, and sandy bottom ! 

Look away! look away! look away ! look away! 
Den 'way down South in de fields of cotton! 
Vinegar shoes and paper stockings ! 
Look away! look away! look away! look away! 

Chorus. 
Den I wish I was in Dixie ! Hooray ! hooray ! 
In Dixie Land we'll take our stand, 

to lib and die in Dixie 
Away ! away ! away down South in Dixie ! 
Away ! away ! away down South in Dixie ! 



13 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



Ole missus marry "Will-de-weaber;" 
Willum was a gay deceaber; 
Look away ! look away i look away I 
Dixie Land ! 
But when he put his arm around her. 
He smiled as fierce as a forty-pounder; 
Look away ! look away I look away ! 
Dixie Land I 

His face was sharp as a butcher's cleaber; 
But dat did not seem to greab her; 
Look away ! look away ! look away ! 
Dixie Land ! 
Ole missus acted de foolish part. 
And died for a man dat broke her heart; 
Look away ! look away I look away ! 
Dixie Land ! 

Now here's health to de next ole missus. 
An, all the gals dat want to kiss us; 
Look away, look away ! look away ! 
Dixie Land ! 
But if you want to drive 'way sorrow. 
Come and hear this song to-morrow; 
Look away ! look away ! look away! 
Dixie Land ! 

Dar's buckwheat cakes an Injun batter. 
Make you fat or a little fatter; 
Look away ! look away ! look away ! 
Dixie Land! 
Den hoe it down an' scratch your grabble. 
To Dixie's Land I'm bound to trabble; 
Look away ! look away ! look away 1 
Dixie Land ! 

Daniel Decatur Emmett 



BATTLE BYMN OF THE REPUBLIC 

■t Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of 

i the Lord; 

1 He is trampling through the vineyard where the 

I grapes of wrath are stored; 

; He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terri- 

\ ble swift sword; 

( His truth is marching on. 

I I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred 
j circling camps. 

They have builded him an altar in the evening 
dews and damps; 
; I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and 
flaring lamps; 

His day is marchins on. 



14 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



I have read a fiery gospel writ in burnished rows 

of steel; 
"As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my 

grace shall deal:" 
Let the Hero, born of woman crush the serpent 

with his heel. 

Since God is marching on. 

He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never 

call retreat; 
He is sifting- out the hearts of men before His 

judgment seat, 
Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer him! be jubilant 

my feet! 

Our God is marching on. 

In the beauty of the lilies Christ was bom across 

the sea. 
With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you 

and me; 
As he died to make men holy, let us die to make 
men free. 

While God is marching on. 

Julia Ward Howe 

ChO.— Glory, glory, hallelujah! Glory, glory, hal- 
lelujah! Glory, glory, hallelujah I 
While God is marching on. 



OLD FOLKS AT HOME 

Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, 

Far, far away, 
Dere's wha ma heart is turning ebber, 

Dere's wha de old folks stay. 
All up and down de whole creation 

Sadly I roam. 
Still longing for de old plantation. 

And for de old folks at home. 

Chorus. 
All de world am sad and dreary, 

Ebery where I roam; 
Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary, 

Far from de old folks at home! 

All round the little farm I wander'd. 

When I was young. 
Den many happy days I squander'd. 

Many de songs I sung. 
When I was playing wid my brudder 

Happy was I, 
Oh! take me to my kind old mudder, 

Dere let me live and die. 



15 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



One little hut among de bushes, 

One dat I love. 
Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes. 

No matter where I rove. 
When will I see the bees a-humming 

All round de comb? 
When will I hear de banjo tumming 

Down in my good old home? 

Stephen Collins Foster 



HOME, SWEET HOME 

'Mid Pleasures and Palaces though we may roam. 
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home ! 
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there, 
(Like the love of a mother. 
Surpassing all other,) 
[Even stronger than time, and more deep with 

despair,] 
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with 
elsewhere ! 



Chorus. 

Home, home ! sweet, sweet home I 
There's no place like Home ! 
There's no place like Home ! 



An exile from home, splendor dazzles in vain ! 

Oh, give me my lowly thatched cottage again I 

The birds singing gaily that came at my call, — 
(Those who named me with pride, — 
Those who played by my side, — ) 

Give me them ! with the innocence dearer than all. 

Home, home ! sweet, sweet Home ! 
There's no place like Home ! 
There's no place like Home ! 

Additional Verses. 

To us in despite of the absence of years. 
How sweet the remembrance of home still appears ! 
From allurements abroad, which but flatter the eye 
The unsatisfied heart turns and says with a sigh. 

Home, home ! sweet, sweet Home ! 
There's no place like Home I 
There's no place like Home ! 



16 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



Your exile is blest with all fate can bestow. 
But mine has been checkered with many a woe ! 
Yet though different our fortunes, our thoughts 

are same, 
And both, as we think of Columbia, exclaim. 

Home, home ! sweet, sweet Home ! 
There's no place like Home ! 
There's no place like Home ! 

John Howard Payne 



ODE TO NEW JERSEY 

The rolling wave is on thy shore, 

Jersey land, my Jersey land ! 

Aloft thine azured mountains soar, I 

Jersey land, my Jersey land! j 

Hill-top and vale, low-lying plain, ( 
Thy pines, thy streams with murmuring strain, I 

These ne'er let thy beauty wane, j 

Jersey land, my Jersey land 1 | 

On fame's bright roll thy name is found, 

Jersey land, my Jersey land ! 
Thine every rood is hallowed ground, 

Jersey land, my Jersey land! 
At Trenton and on Princeton's field, 
On Monmouth's plain, with valor steeled. 
Thy sons their lives for freedom sealed, 

Jersey land, my Jersey land! 

Minerva holds thee near her heart, 

Jersey land, my Jersey land! 
Their gifts the sacred Nine impart, 

Jersey land, my Jersey land! 
Fair wisdom's son thou lov'st to call 
From wayside shrine or college hall; 
Thine altar fires bid welcome all, 

Jersey land, my Jersey land I 

Anon. 



MY OLD KENTUCKY HOME, GOOD NIGHT 

The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home, 

'Tis summer, the darkies are gay; 

The corn top's ripe and the meadow's in the bloom. 

While the birds make music all the day; 

The young folks roll on the little cabin floor. 

All merry, all happy, and bright, 

By*n-by hard times comes a knocking at the door. 

Then my old Kentucky home, good night! 



17 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



Chorus. 
Weep no more, my lady. 
Oh! weep no more to-day! 

We will sing: one song- for the old Kentucky home, 
For the old Kentucky home far away. 

They hunt no more for the possum and the coon 

On the meadow, the hill, and the shore; 

They sing no more by the g-limmer of the moon. 

On the bench by the old cabin door; 

The day goes by like a shadow o'er the heart. 

With sorrow where all was delight; 

The time has come when the darkies have to part. 

Then my old Kentucky home, good night!— Cho. 

The head must bow and the back will have to bend , 
"Wherever the darky may go; 
A few more days and the trouble all will end. 
In the fields where the sugar canes grow; 
A few more days for to tote the weary load. 
No matter— 'twill never be light, 
A few more days till we totter on the road. 
Then my old Kentucky home, good night.— Cho. 
Stephen C. Foster. 



LORD OF HOSTS ! ALMIGHTY KING ! 

O Lord of Hosts! Almighty King! 
Behold the sacrifice we bring: 
To every arm Thy strength impart; 
Thy spirit shed through every heart. 

Wake in our breast the living fires. 
The holy faith that warmed our sires; 
Thy hand hath made our nation free; 
To die for her is serving Thee. 

Be Thou a pillared flame to show 
The midnight snare, the silent foe; 
And when the battle thunders loud. 
Still guide us in its moving cloud. 

God of all nations ! Sovereign Lord ! 
In Thy dread Name we draw the sword. 
We lift the starry flag on high 
That fills with light our stormy sky. 

From treason's rent, from murder's stain. 
Guard Thou its folds till peace shall reign, 
Till fort and field, till shore and sea. 
Join our loud anthem, praise to Thee! 

Dr. Oliver Wendell Holmes, 1861. 
Published by Houghton Mifflin Company. 



18 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



FREEDOM'S FLAG 

Our country's flag! O emblem dear 

Of all the soul loves best. 
What glories in thy folds appear 

Let noble deeds attest: 
Thy presence on the field of strife 

Enkindles valor's flame; 
Around thee, in the hour of peace. 

We twine our nation's fame. 

Chorus. 

Then Hurrah, Hurrah, for Freedom's Flagr: 

We hail, with ringing cheers. 
Its glowing bars and clust'ring stars, 

That have braved a hundred years. 

Beneath thy rays our fathers bled 

In Freedom's holy cause; 
Where'er to Heav'n thy folds outspread. 

Prevail sweet Freedom's laws. 
Prosperity has marked thy course 

O'er all the land and sea; 
Thy favor'd sons in distant climes. 

Still fondly look to thee.— Cho. 

Proud banner of the noble free I 

Emblazon'd from on high! 
Long may thy folds unsoil'd reflect 

The glories of the skyl 
Long may thy land be Freedom's land, 

"Thy homes with virtue bright. 
Thy sons a brave united band. 

For God, for Truth, and Right.— Cho. 

John J. Hood. 
Used by permission of the Author. 

THE AMERICAN FLAG 

When Freedom from her mountain height 

Unfurled her standard to the air. 
She tore the azure robe of night. 

And set the stars of glory there. 
She mingled with its gorgeous dyea 

The milky baldric of the skies, ^ 
And striped its pure celestial white 

With streakings of the morning light; 
Then from his mansion in the sun 

She called her eagle-bearer down, 
And gave into his mighty hand 

The symbol of her chosen land. 



19 



Patriotic and American Songs. 



Majestic monarch of the cloud! 

Who rear'st aloft thine eagle form. 
To hear the tempest trumpings loud. 

And see the lightning lances driven. 
When stride the warriors of the storm. 

And rolls the thunder-drum of heaven! 
Child of the Sun ! To thee 'tis given 

To guard the banner of the free! 
To hover in the sulphur smoke. 

To ward away the battle stroke. 
And bid its blendings shine afar. 

Like rainbows on the cloud of war. 
The harbingers of victory. 

Flag of the brave! thy folds shall fly. 

The sign of hope and triumph high; 
When speaks the trumpets signal tone. 

And the long line comes steaming on. 
Ere yet the life-blood, warm and wet, 

Has dimmed the glistening bayonet, 
Each soldier's eye shall brightly turn; 

To where thy sky-born glories burn; 
And, as his springy steps advance. 

Catch war and vengeance from the glance; 
And when the cannon -writhings loud 

Heave in wild wreaths the battle-shroud. 
And gory sabres rise and fall. 

Like shoots of flame on midnight's pall,~ 
Then shall thy metive glances glow. 

And cowering fires shall sink beneath 
Each gallant arm that strikes below 

That lovely messenger of death! 

Flag of the seas ! on Ocean's wave 

Thy stars shall glitter o'er the brave; 
When death, careening on the gale. 

Sweeps darkly round the bellied sail. 
And frighted waves rush wildly back. 

Before the broadsides reeling rack. 
Each dying wanderer of the sea 

Shall look at once to heaven and to thee. 
And smile to see thy splendors fly 

In triumph o'er his closing eye. 

Flag of the free hearts' hope and home; 

By angels' hands to valor given; 
Thy stars have lit the welkin dome. 

And all thy hues were born in heaven. 
Forever float that standard sheet! 

Where breathes the foe but falls before us. 
With Freedom's soil beneath our feet 

And Freedom's banner streaming o'er us. 

Joseph Rodman Drake. 
(Last 4 lines by Fitz-Greene Halleck.) 



20 



Adopted Songs. 



SOLDIERS' FAREWELL 

How can I bear to leave thee. 
One parting kiss I give thee; 

And then whate'er befalls me, 
I go where honor calls me. 

Chorus. 
Farewell, farewell, my own true love. 
Farewell, farewell, my own true love. 

Ne'er more may I behold thee. 
Or to this heart enfold thee; 

With spear and pennon glancing, 
I see the foe advancing, — Cho. 

I think of thee with longing. 

Think thou, when tears are thronging. 
That with my last faint sighing, 

I'll whisper soft, while djang,— Cho. 
Translated from the German 



AULD LANG SYNE 

Should auld acquaintance be forgot. 
And never brought to mind ? 

Should old acquaintance be forgot. 
And days of auld lang syne. 

Chorus. 
For auld lang syne, my dear; 

For auld lang syne: 
We'll take a cup of kindness yet. 

For auld lang syne. 

OLD SCOTTISH WORDS. 



We twae ha'e run about the 

And pu'd the gowan's fine; 
But we've wandered mony a weary foot, 

Sin' auld lang syne. 

Chorus. 
For auld lang syne, my dear; 

For auld lang syne; 
We've wandered mony a weary foot. 

Sin' auld lang syne. 

We twa ha'e paddled in the burn, 

Frae morning sun 'till dine; 
But seas between us braid ha'e roar'd. 

Sin' auld lang syne. 



21 



Adopted Songs. 



Chorus. 
For auld lang syne, my dear; 

For auld lang syne; 
But seas between us braid ha'e roar'd ; 

Sin' auld lang syne. 

And here's a hand, my trusty frien' 

And gie's a hand o' thine: 
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, 

For auld lang syne. 

Chorus. 
For auld lang syne, my dear; 

For auld lang syne; 
We'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet, 
For auld lang syne. 

Robert Burns 



22 



Information. 



For profitable information on the subject of the 
history and for various versions and music of our 
National Songs, consult 

"WAR SONGS" (words and music) published by 
O, Ditson & Co., Boston. 

"FOLK SONGS" (words and music) edited by 
Louis C. Elson; published by the John 
Church Co., New York. 

THE ABRIDGED ACADEMY SONG BOOK 
(words and music) compiled by Charles H. 
Levermore, Ph.D., published by Ginn & Co., 
Boston. 

"HISTORY OF THE FLAG OF THE UNITED 
STATES" Rear- Admiral George Henry Pre- 
ble; published by James R. Osgood & Co., 
Boston. 

"FAMOUS AMERICAN SONGS" by Gustav 
Kobbe; published by T. Y. Crowell & Co.. 
New York. 

'STORIES OF GREAT NATIONAL SONGS" 
by Col. Nicholas Smith; published by Young 
Churchman Co., Milwaukee. 

"AMERICAN WAR BALLADS AND LYRICS" 
by Geo. Gary Eggleston; one of the most 
complete and authentic collections, publish- 
ed by G. P. Putnam's Sons, New York. 

"DAYS AND DEEDS" byB. E. & E. B. Steven- 
son; published by The Baker & Taylor Co., 
New York. 

"POEMS OF AMERICAN PATRIOTISM" Bran- 
der Matthews; Charles Scribners' Sons. 



America, 4 

Auld Lang Syne, 21 

Battle Hymn of the Republic. 14 

Battle-Cry of Freedom 9 

Ck)lumbia, The Gem of the Ocean, . . 6 

Dixie 13 

Freedom's Flag, 19 

Hail, Columbia! 5 

Home, Sweet Home! .... 16 

Information 23 

My Old Kentucky Home, Good Night, . 17 

Marching Through Georgia, ... 11 

Maryland 13 

Ode to New Jersey, 17 

O Lord of Hosts! Almighty King! . . 18 

Old Folks at Home 15 

Soldiers' Farewell 21 

The Star Spangled Banner, ... S 

The American Flag 19 

The New " Hail Columbia," ... 7 

Tramp! Tramp! Tramp! .... 11 

Tenting on the Old Camp Ground, . 12 

When Johnny Comes Marching Home, . 9 

Yankee Doodle, 7 



24 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 





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